


Kissing Almost Strangers

by Lacadaisiac (Wes)



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Anti-Gay Slurs, Bottom Ronan Lynch, Car Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Probably ooc, There's a burn in here somewhere, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 08:48:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12553704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wes/pseuds/Lacadaisiac
Summary: (Add. Tags: There should be more tags but idk how to phrase them officially, tagging as rape/non-con since dubcon isn't a tag and I wanted to be careful, since this relationship is pretty sleazy esp on Kavinsky's part, that little bitch, anyway, denied kissing abound, bottom Ronan is best Ronan don't talk to me, pwp light on the p, but which one ohoho, GROSS PETNAMES, E.G. FUCK OFF KAVINSKY, Ronan's mega into Gansey and Kavinsky's a jealous ho, Noah makes an appearance.)"No way. He doesn't get to see this side of you, not like I do," Kavinsky said, syrupy. He reached his hand across the distance between their cars, his finger running up Ronan's bicep.Multiple retorts ran through Ronan's mind including breaking his wrist, but he just settled on, "You barely see anything other than my rear bumper.""Damn shame it's not a nicer rear end," Kavinsky mused, his finger pulling away now. His mouth twisted into a wicked grin that sharpened his already-sharp features. "Let's race again."





	Kissing Almost Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> Lmfa o I hat emys elf 
> 
> I also hate Kavinsky but here I am. Tbh it's cuz the nature of Ronan and Kavinsky's relationship really intrigues me, with how Kavinsky is mega abusive and yet still extends a hand to help Ronan, which he takes. Even if they were like lowkey using each other I'm a little sad to know that they could have been friends if Kavinsky dealt with his problems better? But I also appreciate how Stiefvater gave them a similar set of problems and the same dreamer ability to highlight how different choices can affect two similar people so greatly and make them practically opposites. She has a great post on her blog about it and it was just great to read them interacting overall. 
> 
> Idk that being said I did also just feel like writing trash because I don't like when two characters who hate each other are written with a fluffy ship dynamic (e.g. Soukoku), and I like that Kavinsky caught feelings for Ronan cuz that gives all their interactions different depth. It makes for a really great character study on him, although it's one I won't waste my time on (Kavinsky you sleazy piece of shit) lol Anyway, I also feel like it wouldn't be that far out of line if Ronan went to Kavinsky for sex like, once? So that's what this kind of is haha 
> 
> Wow usually I don't blabber this long. I have a lot of feels about Ronan okay that's my son and I love him so much I can't keep it contained haha. Anyway I hope it's somehow enjoyable, I feel like it's mega OOC because I A) haven't written in a while, and B) haven't had a lot of practice writing characters like this. Please point out any discrepancies if you see them, esp in Ronan's dialogue.

It was almost one AM and Ronan knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Gansey, surprisingly, was asleep on the couch in the room next door, but that still didn’t help Ronan's peace of mind. Usually they were up together, two insomniacs facing the world, but when Gansey's out of it then it was just him and his demons. Ronan flicked his wrist a little, directing Chainsaw back to her open cage; she went obediently, watching him as he rose from the bed and stormed out of the room. 

He didn’t close his door, but did quietly lock Monmouth before he left. Gansey was dead asleep and didn't even stir when he left, and Noah wasn’t really sleeping because he wasn’t really there; Adam was in his tiny room in St. Agnes where Ronan didn't want to bother him, so instead he went looking for trouble. 

He slid into his BMW, felt for his keys in his pocket and slid them into the ignition. He gave a solid twist and the engine came to life, quieter than the pig but loud enough for Noah to appear in the seat next to Ronan. He jumped just a little, cursing under his breath. 

"Jesus, Noah, can you not." 

"Sorry. Just wondering if it was actually you or if the car was getting stolen." 

"I'm here aren't I," Ronan snapped, without any heat to it. He shifted gears from park and started pulling out of the driveway. 

"What time should I tell Gansey you'll be home from work?" Noah asked, settling into the passenger seat although it was clear he didn’t intend to stay. 

"Idunno. Whenever I feel like it," Ronan replied, despondent. Noah seemed content with that answer and let them drive in silence for a little while before vanishing back to Monmouth presumably. Ronan was alright with this, and continued in silence, the AC already off so he could blow off some steam as soon as the moment rose. 

He blazed through a pair of red lights on a quiet road before pulling to a stop at the third one. At first he thought he heard the police, but that was just distant noise. Still, the pause gave him enough time to decide where he wanted to go. Ronan clenched his fists around the wheel and eased his toe onto the gas, crawling through the next few intersections. He felt the need to race someone, and who better than Joseph fucking Kavinsky? He'd be up at this hour. He was probably patrolling the streets. 

Ronan figured a good place to start looking was by Nino's, but when Kavinsky wasn't there Ronan instead moved on to his next usual hangout. This time he had better luck, intercepting the white Mitsubishi itself on the way back. Kavinsky's hand was draped out the window, holding the hood. No one was in the car with him. 

"Hey faggot," Kavinsky sneered in greeting, letting the first green light pass them by. Ronan gave him a chilly glare and flipped the bird as an answer. 

Kavinsky tossed his head back to laugh. "Girl's night out, huh? Where's your daddy Dick?" 

"Staying out of your fucking mouth. Where's the rest of your deadbeat pack?" 

"Left them at home for the night. Needed some fresh air. Alone." 

Ronan snarled at him, tapping his fingers on the wheel. The adrenaline was building as the light shifted red, two lights down becoming yellow. Ronan waited for the one after their's to turn green, and counted down the two seconds. As soon as the light switched he slammed his foot down, flooring the gas hard enough to kick up dust behind him. His tires squealed. Kavinsky was right behind him. 

He shifted gears easily, peaking his speed and leaving Kavinsky in the dust. Ronan shot a glance out the mirror, finding the other even farther down the road than he thought. Giving the pedal another couple seconds of solid pressure, he eased his foot off it and started to slow down, pulling over into a gas station that looked closed for the night. The lights were on and the sign said open, but no one was inside. 

Kavinsky followed Ronan into the lot a minute or two later, pulling up next to him. Ronan was messing with his bands while he waited, nibbling on one of them while observing the others on his opposite wrist. He briefly looked up when he heard movement and found Kavinsky leaning out the passenger side of the Mitsubishi on one arm.

"What." 

"You tell me, sweetheart." 

Ronan dropped the bands. He rested that same hand on the steering wheel, eyes trained ahead. 

"You can promptly fuck off, that's what." 

"Ooh, a word outta the dictionary, didja learn that while swapping spit with Dickey?" 

Something in Ronan twisted, equal parts aggravated and intrigued. He _had_ wondered what Gansey's old money tongue would taste like, how sweet it would be in his mouth and how silky it would be on his skin. Ronan's hand clenched on the steering wheel briefly, itching to punch the grin off Kavinsky's face. 

"Careful, or I'm gonna think you're jealous." 

"No way. He doesn't get to see this side of you, not like I do," Kavinsky said, syrupy. He reached his hand across the distance between their cars, his finger running up Ronan's bicep. 

Multiple retorts ran through Ronan's mind including breaking his wrist, but he just settled on, "You barely see anything other than my rear bumper." 

"Damn shame it's not a nicer rear end," Kavinsky mused, his finger pulling away now. His mouth twisted into a wicked grin that sharpened his already-sharp features. "Let's race again." 

Ronan obliged by shifting out of park and speeding out of the parking lot. There was a loud thunk and cursing as he left, his own smirk coming to his lips when Kavinsky reeled his hand back from where it had been struck by Ronan's mirror. That'd teach him. 

They raced. They went once back down, then once back to the gas station, and then one more in the opposite direction just for good measure. On the way back to the gas station, Kavinsky pulled off to the shoulder, flagging Ronan down with a set of honks when he tried to pass. Growling, he wheeled his car around and pulled off to the shoulder as well, getting out of his car and stalking towards the Mitsubishi. He was almost hoping for a fight, he wouldn't have minded beating Kavinsky's face into the dirt; it would have been an improvement. 

Kavinsky advanced on him, bruised hand fisting into his shirt to push him back. Ronan stopped giving ground before his ass hit the roof of his car, shoving back against Kavinsky to stop him from moving. He grinned almost drunkenly down at Ronan and leaned in, lips ghosting just barely before Ronan snapped his head back. 

"What, sweetheart, saving your v-card for Dick?" 

"I don't wanna swap spit with you," Ronan shot back, trying to pull away. Kavinsky's hand was strong in his shirt, and he just ended up forced onto the hood of the BMW anyway. They were kissing, lips smashed messily together and a tongue shoving it's way into Ronan's mouth while the hot metal of the hood scorched through his jeans and the flesh on his forearm. Ronan kicked out, nailing Kavinsky in the chest to send him stumbling back, then jumped off the hood of his car. He was too hyped off adrenaline to care about the fresh burn across the skin of his wrist and forearm interlacing with the already massive preexisting scars up his veins. 

Ronan snarled Kavinsky's name, hauling him up to his feet. The other laughed breathlessly and spit in Ronan's face, forcing him to release him. 

"There's your cooties back, sweetheart. Now can we get on with it?" 

"We're not getting on with anything," Ronan snarled, moving to fist Kavinsky's shirt again. Instead of trying to protect himself or fight it, Kavinsky let it happen, wrapping on hand around his wrist. His thumb traced up Ronan's veins, leaving a strange tingle left in the skin there. 

"Come on, you never come to my place to find me, I know you want something more. Dick not paying enough attention to you? He's fucking around with that little poverty slut isn't he--" 

Ronan could practically hear Kavinsky's lip splitting against his teeth. Ronan let his shirt go so he sprawled across the ground with the force of impact, spitting out the fresh blood in his mouth. It was a bad state of mind to be in, he knew, where his jumbled thoughts and confusion and anger and desires lead to _this_. His fist curled tightly as he leered down at Kavinsky, hissing, "Mention either of them again and I'll give you more than just a split lip. Get up." 

Kavinsky, despite himself, laughed and did. Because a part of him was enjoying this, but a larger part wanted to see what Ronan would do if he kept going. And the part that enjoyed this was a little turned on by that low hiss slithering from behind Ronan's lips. He took a step towards Ronan and was allowed to this time, but still was rejected when he went for another kiss. 

"What made you change your mind?" 

"Pity." 

Ronan tugged away from him and made for his BMW, stripping of his tank top on the way. In the dim light of the street lamps around them, Kavinsky almost swore he saw Ronan's tattoo moving as he ducked jnto the back seat. The bunched up fabric was tossed to him not a second later, an impatient Ronan leaning over the door. 

"Hurry up before I change my mind." 

Kavinsky shook his head and followed Ronan, depositing both the shirt and his shades in the passenger seat once he got in. The backseat was cramped with two tall people, lending Ronan barely enough room to splay out as Kavinsky slotted himself between his hips. Ronan had to press one foot to the closed door to even fully lay down. Kavinsky's hands were on him in a second, rough hands and long nails biting into skin where they could, that drunken grin hanging over Ronan like some shitty crescent moon. 

"What a view," Kavinsky mused, leaning in for another kiss that was denied. Ronan slapped a hand to his throat instead and pushed back, hearing when the air stopped reaching Kavinsky's lungs. They hovered there for a second, until Ronan let him go. Kavinsky just laughed that shitty breathless laugh for the second time that night, tilting his head to stare at Ronan's body. 

"You've got a pornstar's body yanno," Kavinsky noted, his hands hooking the hem of Ronan's jeans and tugging them down. "You could sell this for more than Dick's old man makes in a year." 

Ronan answered by rolling his eyes and wholly not helping in shimmying his jeans and boxers down his hips. Kavinsky just hummed and popped the button, instead sliding his hand into Ronan's pants. 

Ronan shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Having another person's hand on his dick was a way different experience than his good friend Righty, not wholly unpleasant but just foreign. Kavinsky stroked him expertly, swiping his thumb across the slit and pressing under the head, his fingers deft at this. Ronan signed and tilted his head back as much as he could, one of his hands resting across the back of the seats, the other gripping the shoulder of the passenger seat. Kavinsky's hand faltered slightly, a whistle escaping his mouth. 

Kavinsky tried again at Ronan's jeans, finding success in pulling them down his thighs. There was shuffling, amplified in the quiet of the car as Kavinsky shucked his top and freed his dick. He gave himself a few jerks, sighing close enough to Ronan's chest that the breath tickled his skin. 

"You wanna use a condom?" 

Ronan's head snapped up, blue eyes narrowed. "Of course shitwreck. I don't want whatever STDs you've got." 

"Too late sweetheart, you already kissed me," Kavinsky drawled. He pulled back enough to free a small bottle of lube and a pair of condoms from his pocket, the cap of the lube on the floor in a second. 

"We're not going twice." 

"We'll see about that." 

"We're fucking not." 

"Then take it as a souvenir to Dick and tell him thanks for sharing," Kavinsky said back, slyness in his overly cocky voice. Ronan scrunched up his nose, his retort pausing when Kavinsky shove a finger up his ass. 

Ronan arched, holding his breath. His hands gripped the vinyl seats and his muscles visibly clenched, relaxing when Kavinsky started to move. He wriggled his finger around a little, then thrusted once, slowly, experimentally. When Ronan didn't protest he repeated the action with a little more vigor, putting enough force in to make him jump. Kavinsky slid his finger almost all the way out, then pushed back in with a second one. 

This was just shy of too dry, being uncomfortable in the way that his skin burned a little with every action. As Kavinsky pulled his fingers in and out, Ronan brought one of his wrists down to worry at the bands between his teeth. His hips twitched involuntarily, making Kavinsky just laugh at him. 

"You really fuckin' want it, ya horny little slut." 

"I have better places to be so hurry up." 

Kavinsky spread his fingers. Ronan choked back a gasp. 

"Hurry. Up."

A third finger was in a second later, jabbing into him and stroking his insides, spreading around at various angles until he was deemed open enough. Kavinsky picked up one of the condoms off Ronan's stomach and held it to his mouth, until Ronan took the tip of he plastic between his teeth. The other jerked once, twice, and then the package tore free, leaving Ronan's canine aching just so. Kavinsky pulled it the rest of the way free and withdrew his hand from Ronan, rolling the condom onto his cock. 

He squirted the rest of the lube directly into Ronan's hole, earning a quiver out of him. Kavinsky didn't really blame him, it was pretty cold. Without waiting, he forced his way in. 

Ronan arched again, holding that position as Kavinsky shoved inside. He didn't wait for Ronan to adjust, just pushed in until he bottomed out. Pain came in with it, but Ronan found he didn't mind the sharp ache of the intrusion, didn't mind when Kavinsky slid out and then jerked back in. Ronan gnawed at the bands again, bucking back against Kavinsky's hips when he bottomed out again. His body was tense and rigid, no doubt squeezing Kavinsky like a vice. 

It took them a minute to start a solid rhythm, but once they did Ronan threw himself into it. He let his body take over, arching up and bucking back against Kavinsky as he thrusted. He wasn't a bad fuck, his pace fast and brutal, but he was generic. He lacked the intimate knowledge of Ronan's body to know what spots really drove him through the roof. Nailing Ronan's prostate dead on with a solid thrust, hard enough to make him yelp, was pure luck more than anything. 

Kavinsky hissed a laugh and continued aiming around that spot, hearing the small noises Ronan let slip when he hit it. One hand was tight on Ronan's hip, the other gripping the back of his raised knee to bend him slightly. Ronan bowed his back against the seat, hissing when it stuck to him as he started to sit up. 

Kavinsky seemed to get the memo and helped pull him up, practically giddy at the prospect of Ronan riding him. His hands were on Ronan's body instantly again, jerking him off, pinching his nipples, smoothing over his tattoo. Ronan growled at him but started to move as well, his pace slower than Kavinsky's but tantalizing nonetheless. 

Every downstroke slid past his prostate, making him full-body shiver each time. He was tearing into the leather now, eyes clenched shut and brows weaved together as he imagined it wasn't Kavinsky's dick he was on but Gansey's. Gansey's hands on his skin, long-fingered and hard from rowing, but delicate, touching like Ronan was a page in his journal. Gansey's lips on his neck, teeth and tongue laving over a fresh hickey; multiple hickeys, forming a collar around his neck to show off who's dog he was. Gansey's eyes roaming over his form, Gansey's hair tickling his jaw, Gansey's Gansey's _Gansey's_ everything being given to him. Ronan's breathing had become uneven, a moan tearing from his throat when he dropped down onto Kavinsky's lap. 

Ronan set a brutal pace, like he'd imagine Gansey would if he was losing if _just so,_ and let his fantasies run wild. His muscles tensed when he thought about how Gansey would pull at Ronan’s arms until they were wrapped around Gansey’s neck. His hips stuttered as he imagined Gansey bucking back into him every time Ronan slid down. Ronan was aware of Kavinsky's hand running up and down his spine and his tongue teasing a nipple, his fingers stroking lazily over his cock. But what really made Ronan hitch his breath and lose it was imagining Gansey's whispered praises against his skin: _"You're so good, Ronan, you're doing so well, you're so perfect like this, so good at riding me, so..."_

Ronan didn't cry out as he came, just snagged his teeth into his bracelet hard enough to dig teeth marks into it. Kavinsky hissed against his ear and shoved his hips down, holding him steady so he couldn't pull away. Ronan let out a shaky breath, euphoric and lost in it, but he was slammed out of his reverie quite literally by Kavinsky shoving him onto his back. 

Kavinsky was brutal, hard, fast thrusts practically splitting him. Ronan gasped, gripping the seats again, his body tensing at the pain of oversensitivity and the rough treatment. But something in him was stirring, god if this was Gansey... 

Ronan heard Kavinsky growling something but the only word in his ears was Gansey's name. He keened high when he felt teeth sinking into his neck, gnawing and worrying the skin until a dark bruise was apparent there. Ronan hissed beside Kavinsky's head, probably in his ear, but he didn't care. Not when Kavinsky moaned wantonly and filled the condom. 

They sat like that for some time, catching breaths and slowly coming down from the high. Ronan's back felt stuck to the vinyl seat, his skin peeling away with a sticky noise as Kavinsky sat him up. He went for another kiss. 

Ronan turned his head again, reaching to the front seat for Kavinsky's shirt and glasses. He shoved them against his chest and whispered, "get the fuck out of my car." 

"Don't be so cold sweetheart, why the rush?" Kavinsky grinned again at Ronan's tired glare. Even like this he still managed to be intimidating, his eyes were sharp and brows were furrowed even if Kavinsky could see the exhausted line in his frown. "Let's go again baby." 

"I said no. Now leave." 

And just like that Ronan was off his lap and out the other door, gathering his shirt to put back on, fixing his clothing until he looked as presentable as usual. Kavinsky rolled his eyes and slowly pulled the condom off himself, not caring how much leaked out of it before he tied it off. He dropped it on the driver's side seat before he exited, still shirtless but at least with fixed pants. 

"Say hi to the wife for me, I hope he organizes a damn good punishment when he finds out you're cheating," Kavinsky said, getting back into his car. He drove off too fast to not tell Ronan he was pissed, the middle finger thrown out the window was like the final piece to the puzzle. Ronan just shook his head and took the filled condom from the front seat, hurling it out into the field beside them. He flopped back into the driver’s side but didn't start the car. It was nice to just sit in silence, to contemplate how Gansey's name so freely fell from his lips. 

* * *

 

Kavinsky's knuckles were white as he drove back to his mansion, his bruised hand aching and shaky. Finally, _finally_ he'd had Ronan just within his grasp, just where he wanted but they way he'd gasped Dick's name just... 

It was only one time, a little breath wasted on it, but it stabbed straight through Kavinsky. 

He wanted that to be his name. How good it would sound, moaned by Ronan's sharp tongue going soft with the haze of ecstasy. How lovely it would be to have him whine it, _'Kavinsky, fuck, Kavinsky...'_ And begging him... Oh if he could get Ronan to beg he'd be done for. Kavinsky let the thought steep within himself for a while, biting into his knuckles to keep from moaning himself. Just the thought of Ronan on his knees, whimpering for his cock was enough to make Kavinsky hard again. He needed a cold shower.

But damn it, if only he'd been able to kiss that sinful mouth more than once. He wanted it so badly, to feel what Gansey felt, to taste what he tasted. He wanted to wash Gansey away, to be the only taste on Ronan's tongue for weeks. He wanted it so much so it was almost embarrassing to think about. But he couldn't deny it. He couldn't shift his thoughts from it. 

Kavinsky licked his lips. When it happened again, he'd be sure to swipe at least one more. 

**Author's Note:**

> It never happened again lol


End file.
